Qing Wangchuan

The Grave of Qing Wangchuan

Although he had been mentally prepared, upon seeing the name on the tombstone clearly, Qin Wangchuan still couldn't help but let out a sigh.

That damn moronic system, it really did bind to the wrong person!

On the cold stone tablet, the three characters "Qing Wangchuan" were glaringly bright.

The system was supposed to have bound itself to the humble-born Qing Wangchuan, not the imperial-clan Qin Wangchuan.

A difference of two characters.

In other words, the person buried in the grave was the intended target.

However, no one knew what kind of accident had occurred, causing the Humble Origins Counterattack System, which should have belonged to Qing Wangchuan, to bind to him instead.

The system hadn't just bound to the wrong person; it had spent a full five years loading!

Five years was enough time for a talentless, humble-born youth without a golden finger to die silently in a family dispute.

According to the plot described by the system, Qing Wangchuan could have relied on the system to cheat his way through life, rising from humble beginnings, playing the pig to eat the tiger, befriending all sorts of beauties, holding them in his arms, and eventually achieving supreme hegemony—even transcending the world wasn't impossible. He was the quintessential protagonist of a fantasy power fantasy.

But now, let alone a counterattack—

The grass on his grave was already three meters high.

"He died unexpectedly at the age of four," Yin Qiyue said in a low voice, her slender fingers gently stroking the tombstone. "It was later discovered that a maid had been acting in the shadows."

"Although she has been dealt with, the dead cannot return to life. He remained at the age of four forever."

Moss crawled into the cracks of the stone tablet, and a few withered leaves spiraled down to land in front of the grave.

Yin Qiyue raised her eyes to examine the young master before her, a deep sense of confusion flashing in her gaze.

"May I ask what your relationship is with him...?"

"An old friend."

Qin Wangchuan tossed the bouquet he had bought on his way here in front of the tombstone, a complicated, indescribable emotion tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Since the guy was already stone-cold dead anyway, he could say whatever he wanted.

The moss on the stele dampened his fingertips.

Who could have imagined that this youth, bullied to death by a maidservant, was supposed to be the protagonist of a power-fantasy novel blessed with immense destiny? If the system had awakened a year earlier, if he could have held on for just one more year...

When it all came down to it.

To be played to death by a maid—what a pathetic way to go.

"An old friend?" Yin Qiyue frowned slightly, wondering to herself why she had never heard him mention such a person.

Although this explanation barely accounted for how the other party knew her name, she still felt that something was off.

It was too smooth.

The young master seemed to know her inside and out.

Yet, she knew nothing about him.

Forget it, it's just a chance encounter; there's no point in overthinking it.

The morning breeze swept across the grave, sending a few withered leaves swirling around Yin Qiyue's feet.

"Since it is a reunion of old friends, if he knows of this in the afterlife, he will surely be pleased."

"The hour is late, and I must return to the sect to report," she said, tucking back a lock of hair disheveled by the wind. "Farewell..."

"Let's go together."

This sudden invitation made Yin Qiyue's breath hitch.

She looked up to see the youth gazing toward the direction of the Qinglan Holy Land.

Those eyes, which should have been youthful, held a depth that was startling to behold.

"Is the young master also heading to the Qinglan Holy Land in the Northern Region?" she asked tentatively, her fingers quietly forming a Detection Technique—still, she could not perceive a shred of spiritual fluctuation.

There were only two explanations for this situation:

Either he was a mortal child who had never cultivated, or the disparity between their realms was so vast it was beyond imagination.

Qin Wangchuan withdrew his gaze and gave a slight nod.

Within his field of vision, a translucent system panel hovered before him:

[New Mission: Endure Humiliation, The Path of Escape!]

[Mission Description: To save your childhood sweetheart, you defied the Immortal Sect with a mortal body, unleashing world-shaking power in a desperate situation to finally slay the Qinglan Elder, Mo Qianjue. However, this act has enraged the Holy Land. Now, pursuers are closing in, and during your escape, you discover that the Evil Art seems inextricably linked to the Sect Master of the Qinglan Holy Land...]

[Objective 1: Avoid the Edge of the Blade (Difficulty: Hard)]

Escape Qingshi Town and survive the pursuit of the Holy Land.

Reward: Simulation Count +1, Origin +75

[Objective 2: Bide One's Time (Difficulty: Extremely Hard)]

Change your identity and join Qinglan Holy Land to investigate the source of the Evil Art.

Reward: Origin +100

[Objective 3: A World-Shocking Feat (Difficulty: Nearly Impossible)]

Defeat the Sect Master of Qinglan Holy Land (Late Fifth Realm).

Completion Reward: Origin +150

(Note: This mission is extremely difficult! It is a long-term, multi-stage mission that will take anywhere from three to four years, or perhaps seven to eight years. Please proceed with caution, Host.)

Wow, how thoughtful.

I'll go over and kill him right now.

"The Northern Region is thousands of miles away; it will take at least three days to get there," Yin Qiyue couldn't help but remind him. "I'm afraid your family won't agree to it, Young Master."

She simply assumed the young man was curious and wanted to go for a visit.

However.

"Three days?"

Before the words had even faded, Qin Wangchuan suddenly chuckled.

He then raised his eyes to look at the firmament. The next moment.

The heavens and earth suddenly changed color!

"BOOM—!!!"

The clouds were torn apart as if by an invisible giant hand. Amidst the violent spatial turbulence, that legendary Heavenly Sword Flying Ship crushed the void and emerged.

Every feather on the Vermilion Bird statue at the bow of the ship erupted with blinding sword light, sending birds within a hundred-mile radius fleeing in terror.

The moment the Flying Ship appeared, a violent spiritual pressure poured down like a celestial river. Yin Qiyue felt her knees go weak, and she was slammed hard against the ground.

With her dark hair disheveled, she could only struggle to prop herself up with trembling arms.

"A few breaths will suffice."

The youth's voice remained calm, yet it was now wrapped in the thunderous roar of the descending Flying Ship.

Yin Qiyue looked up at the flying artifact before her, which far exceeded anything recorded in the ancient texts of the Holy Land, her throat tightening.

Everything about this surpassed her understanding.

"Young Master, who exactly are you...?"

"My surname is Qin." He stood on the Flying Ship, looking down. His black and gold brocade robe billowed like a raging tide in the spiritual pressure storm. Behind him was the cyan jade hull that blotted out the sky—every ancient Daoist rune upon it spoke of how extraordinary this vessel was.

"This character should not be unfamiliar to you."

Yin Qiyue's pupils contracted sharply.

"Qin"—

This character struck her heart like a heavy hammer, leaving her ears buzzing.

The scene from two years ago suddenly surfaced in her mind:

The "Qin" character embroidered on the shoulder of the Golden Armored Cultivator, the droplets of blood that splattered onto her lips when Mo Qianjue exploded, and that line: "A big shot you couldn't reach even if you cultivated for ten thousand lifetimes..."

She suddenly began to tremble violently, not out of fear, but from a realization that bordered on shivering—

The youth before her was the very "His Highness" mentioned by that Golden Armored Cultivator back then!

The existence who had crushed her nightmares with a casual decree, the savior-like figure, was standing right in front of her.

"Two years ago... was it you who sent people to save my life?" Yin Qiyue's voice was tight, her fingertips digging unconsciously into her palms.

In the shadow cast by the Flying Ship, the youth shook his head.

"I had my own motives; it cannot be called saving you."

Just as Yin Qiyue gazed at Qin Wangchuan, feeling a mix of shock and joy, the next moment:

A cold, clear voice wrapped in sword intent exploded suddenly in her mind!

"Have you seen enough?"

As the Flying Ship slowly descended, a woman could be seen standing on the deck.

An incredibly beautiful woman.

She was currently staring at her with an icy gaze.

"Keep your eyes in check."